Edward Lorn's Blog, page 27

My Semi-Fictional Life #34 (A Review)

Hello, my busy little bumble bees. Today I have a review of J. Kent Messum’s Bait. Read on past the Final Judgment for today’s excerpt and word count.

 

In my original review of this book, I called the characters “cardboard”. I gotta say, that’s not quite accurate. It’s not wrong, but it’s not completely accurate.

First off, one thing that annoyed the piss out of me but is purely subjective is how Messum described being high on heroin. I don’t know if Messum has ever done heroin. If he has and it felt like he had a worm in his brain, more power to him. That was never my experience with H. My experience was a warm, snuggly, extended-orgasm sensation. Like I was coming continuously for several minutes before the initial tide withdrew, leaving me all fuzzy for an hour or so. I never noticed anything going on in my head, especially because, most of the time, I was doing the junkie lean and nodding off. I chased the dragon for five years and never once encountered Messum’s worm. Could he have had a different experience? Yeah. But I’ve never heard anyone but him describe being high the way he does in this book. He got the withdrawal symptoms right, though, so kudos there.

Now, about the characters. You’re gonna hear “I just didn’t care about any of these people” quite often in reviews because Messum wrote much of this book in omniscient third person. It’s an impersonal style of writing, like a god looking down on his subjects, a god who knows all of their innermost thoughts and desires and motivations. But you can’t get close enough to the characters to properly develop them because you’re so far outside of the situation. This style is the only time it is acceptable to head hop, which the author does here. Messum did nothing wrong, though. The style is used properly. It is just, I feel, the wrong style for this kind of book; a book where you definitely need a good feel for your cast.

Another issue with the characters is that they are all pretty much the same person. They’re all junkies who only care about themselves. They start off that way and they end up that way. There is no progress. That makes for a boring time, as well.

The best part of this book is the sparse writing. It’s written in an engaging manner that is easy to read, so the book will likely fly by for you. Once I realized I had read this one before, I slowed down so I could really dissect what was going on. Unfortunately, there’s nothing deep about this book, nothing to study. Messum’s message is the old adage: Drugs are bad, m’kay.

The reason this didn’t rate lower for me is because the book is a gory good time. Messum doesn’t pull any punches, and I appreciate any author who describes a main character literally being eaten alive while their companions fight to save them. That scene was worth an entire star by itself.

In summation: This book is okay. I liked it all right, anyway. You likely will not hate it, nor will it become your Best Thing Evar. It’s forgettable enough that I picked it up thinking I hadn’t read it, but memorable enough that I eventually realized that I’d read it once before, when it first came out. I am definitely open to reading more from this author.

Final Judgment: An ocean of possibilities with the content of a puddle.

 

So, there you have it. Since you were good and read the whole thing, here’s your excerpt:

“Muy caliente, Papi!” Ramone hollered in an ear-splitting falsetto. He laughed and coughed until he worried he might stroke out. He attempted to scrub the image of his parents fucking in the back of a blazing Chevy Bronco, but it was no use. The weed had gone deep, and everything he thought of right then (Nazi war crimes, slaughtered puppies, boiled babies,) was the funniest thing to have ever jogged through his mind. If asked, Ramone would say he wasn’t such a bad guy. But the skunk weed he got from Johnny, while cheap as hell, always made him feel good to the point of giggling. The world could explode right now and he’d die laughing at the mushroom cloud due to its phallic shape.

Boom! You’ve been excerpted! Or whatever.

I broke 10k words today. Currently sitting at 11,661. Yay,me!

See you tomorrow,

E.

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My Semi-Fictional Life #33 (Cookies)

Hello, my obviously-amazing daily readers. Today I want to talk about cookies and my desire to eat them even when I know I shouldn’t.

Although yesterday’s blog was only partial truth (remember, folks, this blog is called My Semi-Fictional Life for a reason), I have indeed been diagnosed as pre-diabetic. My doctor believes that the most recent blood work she ordered will come back saying, by this point, I have full-blown diabetes, but I hold out hope that I will score a D- and at least pass the test and move on to the next grade.

After all, I can barely remember to take my pain medicine when I’m in pain. How am I to be trusted with a routine of Metformin or goddamn insulin, praise Tom Cruise and amen.

So, to celebrate my recent Maybe-Diabetes Dilemma, my son Chris and I spent last night baking chocolate chip cookies because reasons. Even now, as I type this, I’m nomming on a cookie. I know, I know, bad E.! But that’s how my brain works. You tell me I can’t have something and that thing is ALL I WANT!

See, now I’ve got crumbs all down my shirt and shit because I’m hollering with my mouth full. Bad. BAD, I SAY!

*cracks open a can of Coca-Cola and washes down his sadness*

Even being pre-diabetic, I managed to write 2,012 words today. How about that. Congratulations, me, for not curling up into a ball and crying myself into a coma.

*high fives self*

Writing 2,012 words got me thinking about 2012 and how awesome that year was. I wasn’t pre-diabetic in 2012, and it was the year my son was born. Bay’s End had just released and everyone was either loving it or trying to convince me that pre-teen boys don’t really cuss or have erections, and that, no matter what, foul language will always be more offensive than child abuse. Or, you know, whatever. All in all, 2012 was a pretty damn fine year.

What’s that you say? You want an excerpt from today’s writing? Sure. Here you go:

“I know Wally,” Karen said. “He’s an asshole.”

That’s all you get. Literally everything else from today’s writing is a goddamn spoiler. I know, right? The author IS an asshole for giving you so little.

*grabs another cookie and stuffs it into his mouth*

ee oo oo-are-oh

E.

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How does diabetes fuck you? 

With a penis-shaped pancreas like this one…

My Semi-Fictional Life #32 (I’m Slowly Dying)

Hello, my many merry mortals. Today I went to the doctor. The results are in.

I’m pre-diabetic, pre-historic, pre-determined, and pre-disposed. I’m hypertensive, hypoglycemic, hyperactive, and hyperbolic.

In other words, no more cookies, much less salt, lots more exercise, far more water. And, according to actual scientific tests and stuff, Doc says I’m brilliant. Who knew? I guess I had an inkling, but that should be expected, considering I’ma  genius and whatnot.

Anyshit, I’m healthy, but everyday, I’m slowly dying. Aren’t we all?

*smooches*

Health update achieved. 0 XP earned. Would you like to sleep?

Yes/No

Yes

I wrote 1,619 words today, which is just shy of my daily goal, but I wrote so much the past two days, it barely matters.  I’m still way ahead of schedule.

You’ve read this far, so I guess you deserve an excerpt from today’s writing. Here ya go:

 

The crowd inside the open stadium comes alive with a chorus of boos. Sounds of derision

drown out the music pouring from the speakers and echoes out over every fan. Angry faces

painted with team colors pop up on the JumboTron. Fists shake at cameras. Signs with messages

like ALL LIVES MATTER and PICK A BETTER PLACE TO PROTEST! can be seen

sprinkled here and there. An obese man, his belly dangling from the bottom of his skin-tight

Blackbirds jersey, attempts to flip the camera off. The feed switches before he can extend past

the first knuckle.

 

And that’s all you get for today.

See you tomorrow,

E.

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Book mail is the best mail…

My Semi-Fictional Life #31 (What’s the Point?)

Hello, and welcome to my most click-baity title yet! Today I want to explain why I’m doing NaNoWriMo for the ninth time, especially when I’ve won seven times.

I get two questions quite often: What’s the point? and What are you trying to prove?

First, I have nothing to prove. I’ve written over thirty novels, published six under this name, as well as two short story collections, and usually (last year being the exception to the rule) blow right through November and well past the 50k word limit. I’m a storyteller. It is what I am. My job is writing. It’s how I pay the bills. This is no harder for me than it is for you to get up and go to work everyday. If you can do something, you do it. Talent helps, of course, and some would argue that I have none, but people buy and enjoy my work, so I must be doing something right. But you don’t need talent to do work. Natural gifts make things easier, certainly, but anyone can write 1,667 words every day. It takes dedication, sure. Of course it takes work ethic. And that’s something I’m quite sure I have. Talent? Well, that’s disputable and subjective. Objectively, I put in work. That is a fact. So, no, I have nothing to prove. Which brings me to…

What’s the point? Now there is a good question. The answer is simple, but it is still a good question. My reason for buckling down every November and bashing out a novel in 30 days is because I enjoy the sense of community. I enjoy cheering people on and watching other creative people succeed. It’s fucking great. Especially you newcomers who think you can’t and end up slaughtering that 50k word count. You guys rock. But everyone who tries, even those who fail, learn something from this. You learn that writing is either your thing or it’s not. Are you going to write the next great American novel, or win the Pulitzer with what you create in 30 days? Fuck no. But at least you know if this life is for you or not. Because working authors write. Everyone else is just talk.

I participate in NaNoWriMo for the same reason I’m on Facebook and Goodreads and Instagram and Twitter. I love community. I love the idea that individuals can come and celebrate success and  offer support and soothe failure.

Anygoo, there’s your answers. You want your excerpt now, don’t you. Okay. But, remember, this is between me and you…

 

Roberta rolled over and sat up to find her mother standing in the doorway. The woman’s body all but filled the space. She was damn near as wide as she was tall. The thought made Roberta giggle. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle it. Snot exploded from her nose as she was unable to contain her inebriated mirth.

“Look at you.” Mom shook her head almost imperceptibly. The sorrowful look in her eyes sobered Roberta just enough to stop her careless laughter.

“Just look at you,” Mom repeated.

Roberta wiped snot from her upper lip and smiled. She shrugged. “Monkey see, monkey do.”

Enough! That’s all you get. Might be too much, but oh well.

See you tomorrow!

E.

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Friendly weekly remind, the books below are available HERE:

My Semi-Fictional Life #30 (NaNoWriMo Begins!)

Hello, my wonderfully witty pre-winter writers! Today is the beginning of NaNoWriMo, or to the uninitiated, National Novel Writing Month! If you are unaware, NaNoWriMo is a yearly challenge to write 50,000 words in 30 days. Seems like a helluva feat when you sit back and think about it, and it is. I’ve managed to win seven times out of eight (I failed last year) and decided I would only participate this year if I had an idea waiting to jump out onto the page. Just so happens that just that happened to me in October. I am now toenail-deep into a new novel entitled Platform.

I wrote 3,801 words today, which is pretty good for a guy who can’t sit in one place too long. I suppose you want a taste of what I wrote? Well, I’m usually against showing off unedited material, but since we’re all friends here… and as long as you promise not to tell anybody… I guess I can share a wittle itty bitty bit…

If you see any errors, please ignore them. By reading this now, you’re kinda seeing me in the buff before I have a chance to shower and get dressed for our big date. Anyfloop, here’s the opening paragraph as it stands right now:

One clear morning, a mile above a major city, an object appeared in the sky. Nothing more than a flat black square that looked, from ground level, to be no bigger than a chess board. Below, the residents of this great bustling metropolis noticed nothing awry. All attention focused on the way ahead, each person communicated with their respective devices. Not a single soul looked to the heavens. They barely noticed each other, much less what occurred overhead. Thus, for a while, the platform went unnoticed.

And that’s all you get. For now anyway. I hope to be able to share a small bit from each day’s writing, but I also don’t want to give any of the story away.

Are you participating in NaNoWriMo? If you are, what are you working on? Lemme know in the comments and follow me on Twitter for daily cheerleading. Good luck!

I’ll see you tomorrow,

E.

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My Semi-Fictional Life #29 (Happy Halloween!)

Hello, my festive festival-frequenting Festers. Today is Halloween! I know, I know, no duh. But, for my family, it’s the most wonderful time of the year. We’ll be crashing Trunk or Treats and Harvest Festivals all day, and then, when the sun plummets, it’s on to Trick ‘r Treating. And you know what that means…

CANDY!!!

I’ve not always had the money to celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas. I can remember two or three years, before meeting my wife, my being alone and morose as those holidays came and went. But I’ve never missed a Halloween. I mean, hell, you can’t walk around on Thanksgiving asking for turkey legs. That’s how you get shot. And since Santa is just hopes and dreams, like Jesus before him, if you’re broke and alone, all you get in December is seasonal depression and a fruitcake from the local food pantry.

But Halloween? Shit, throw some dirt in your hair, rub your hands on a car tire and smudge your face up real good, and you’re all set for any number of parties.

*knock, knock*

“Hello. What’re you supposed to be?”

“Homeless!”

“Right on! Come on in, there’s punch in the toilet!”

“In the toilet?”

“Ran out of bowls!”

“Right on!”

Or you could just go Trick ‘r Treating. Some people might look at you and say, “Ain’t you a little old to be asking for candy, big guy?” To which you respond with gurgles and head nods. And looky there, there’s a king-size Snickers being dropped in the plastic bag you shoplifted from Walmart.

Hungry? Why wait? Grab a Snickers.

Anyfuck, you get my drift. Halloween is a terrific time of year. People are more accepting of the freaks and you don’t get trampled while shopping. Win/motherfucking/win.

Have a safe and terrific Halloween and I’ll see you tomorrow for the start of NaNoWriMo,

E.

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From four years ago…

My Semi-Fictional Life #28 (A Quote)

Today’s easy. I’m going to leave you guys with a quote and call it a night.

“It has always felt to me that people vote in a new government not because they actually agree with their politics but just because they want change. Somehow they think that things will be better under the new lot. Well, people are stupid, but it all seems to have more to do with mood, caprice and atmosphere than carefully thought-out arguments.”

~The Wasp Factory, by Iain Banks

See you tomorrow,

E.

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My Semi-Fictional Life #27 (News and a Review)

Hello, you sexy beastial beasts. Today I have a review of Chuck Palahniuk’s Doomed. But first, a little news.

I will be participating in NaNoWriMo this year. I said last year that the only way I would do it would be if I had an idea for a book in October. Meaning, I wasn’t going to force anything. I tried forcing it last year and, while I did finish my short story collection, WORD, I did not hit 50k words. It was the first year since I began participating that I did not finish.

Well, I had an idea for a book about a group of strangers stuck on a platform one mile above a major city. I think it’s going to be a scifi/horror mashup, but we’ll see. I have the situation, the beginning, and the end mapped out, now all I have to do is fill in the blanks.

If you are planning to participate in NaNoWriMo, I’m offering free covers made with public-domain images to everyone who plays this year. If you’re interested, comment below with your ideas for your cover, the book’s title, and your byline. Please try and keep it simple. Like I said on Facebook last night:

“The chances of me finding a barrel-chested man flying a kite in Berlin as the wall is coming down and Ronald Reagan fist-fighting Ronald McDonald in the background is highly unlikely. That would be epic, but hard to find.”

Even if you’re not a writer, watch this space in November, as I will be posting teasers from my progress on the book, probably weekly. I’ll try and do daily, but I don’t want to give away too many details. This one’s going to be good.

On to the review…

Doomed Review

After seeing The Right Honorable Lady Kells take a hot squat on this one, I became nervous. You see, my boy Chuck’s Doomed has been sitting on my shelf, giving me that come hither stare for a while now. It’s all, “Lay hands on me, big boy” and I’m all, “Nah, son, you got semen on you.” Just look at that cover. If you’re a dude, that’s either your worst nightmare or your biggest fantasy, you know, depending on the recipient. But the cover fits the book, and I’m a fan of them: both the cover and the book.

Is Doomed as good as Damned? Fuck no. Not even close. But it did entertain me, unlike Vibrator Armaggedon. Jaysus Pickleberry Christ, that book sucked. This one didn’t. Sorry, Kells. We just gon’ hafta disagree herr.

Why didn’t it suck? Well, I probably liked this more because I’m a dude. Not gonna lie, there’s a fuckload of dick and fart jokes. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought this was a novelization of a Kevin Smith movie. The fate of Maddy’s Papadaddy Ben (that name still cracks me up) is one of the funniest scenes I’ve ever read. To quote Vapid Internet Users: “Best. Thang. EVAR!” In fact, I laughed a lot while reading this one. It’s sillier than a ballerina with an erection, but the silly doesn’t overstay its welcome as it did in Beautiful You.

I think the thing that raised this piece from a three to a four for me was the twist. I’m not spoiling anything for anyone, but that shit was so well set up. I didn’t see it coming. Not that it had any major effect on the story overall, but it was nice to see Chuck surprise me again. Last time he managed that was with Rant, and that was how many books ago? Five? Six? Fuck, I don’t know.

What’s not to like about a book where one of the antagonists is a balloon-animal-person made out of a used condom? One of those ideas that I wish I’d thought of. Bravissimo!

I also really enjoyed all the commentary on religion. If you’re a fan of god(s) or religion in general, ya might wanna skip this one.

In summation: This book was fun. It’s dumb and immature and fulla gross-out humor, but it also has heart, all the heart that was missing in Chuck’s absolutely soulless and unforgivable Beautiful You. Unlike Kells, I was excited to the “The End?” at the end of the book. I hope he eventually wraps up this loose nod to Dante. Looking forward to what he does with Paradiso.

Final Judgment: A living condom.

See you tomorrow,

E.

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Secret Freebie Links…

Cruelty: Episode One

The Scare Rows (or Something Wicked Comes on Your Face)

My Semi-Fictional Life #26 (Homeschooling)

Hello, my hectic home-schooling heretic heathens. Today I want to talk about homeschooling myths. My wife homeschools our kids (Autumn, 11, and Chris, 4) and we’re always asked why we school our kids at home, as well as inundated with several astoundingly ignorant questions as to the expectations that our children are/will be socially stunted in some way.

Don’t you worry that your children will be socially awkward?

As if people who go to public school are not socially awkward? I can only guess this question stems from the idiotic idea that, just because our children homeschool, that they never leave the house. My kids go to the park just like your kids. They play with the neighbor kids just like your kids. They go shopping with us. They (GASP!) even enjoy going to the library. They interact with people all the time. In fact my daughter is one of the most outgoing people I know. She can start a conversation with complete strangers and become friends with them in less time than it takes me to load Facebook on my computer.

Don’t you worry that your kids aren’t learning important life lessons, like how to deal with bullies?

I don’t even answer this question anymore. The fact that I’ve been asked this numerous times depresses me. There are people out there who think that public school teaches children how to deal with bullies. This is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard. If you don’t know why, that makes me extremely sad.

You must be Christian or a member of some cult, right?

Pardon me, but… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You’re joshing, right? One of the reasons we homeschool (especially in the south) is to keep our kids away from indoctrination. We do not teach atheism, either. Don’t be silly. We educate our children so that they can make their own decisions. If my kids want to be religious zealots, that’s their right. We don’t teach creationism or agnosticism or any dogma. We teach our children to question everything and make their own life choices. Do we keep our children away from religious extremists? Most definitely. For the same reason we keep them away from guns and poisons.

Are your children special needs?

No.

You must be rich!

No. I’m an author and content creator and my wife is a stay-at-home mom. We’re far from rich. We live in a trailer in the country and do not live an extravagant lifestyle. We’re comfortable in that we’re well-nourished and have a roof over our heads, but our disposable income is minimal, hence all the thrift-store hauls I post on Instagram. I pay the bills with audiobook and short story sales. Book sales are the icing on the cake. If you’ve ever purchased one of my books, you’ve put food on my table and bought my kids school supplies. You have our undying appreciation for that.

So there you have it. I’ve debunked some homeschooling myths and gave you guys a look inside the Lorn Complex.

See you tomorrow,

E.

Video of the Day

My wife vlogs. This is one of her videos. If you homeschool, subscribe and stuff.

 

My Semi-Fictional Life #25 (Exhausted)

Hello, my pumpkin-preoccupied Peruvians. Today, we took the kids to the Halloween Candy Walk in downtown Prattville, Alabama, and I got to stand out in the sun for an hour and then walk a half a mile in a circle. I’m a wee bit tired. The kids had fun though, and that’s all I care about. For now, I’m going to get doped up on pain meds and try to read a little before I pass out.

Oh, I almost forgot. We went to a thrift store today that we normally don’t hit because their books are expensive (for a thrift shop, anyway), but today they had a Books by the Pound deal going. The kids loaded up on children’s books and I grabbed dome Rabbi Small mysteries. Pics tomorrow. Promise.

Weekly reminder: You can buy cheap paperbacks of all my books HERE.

You can buy ebooks HERE and audiobooks HERE.

Here’s the newest HOTNESS.

Thank you for all your support.

See you tomorrow,

E.

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Kids at the Candy Walk be like…